The Caribbean Happy Accident
by miliili
Summary: Hermione Granger was sent by Ministry to the exotic island Cuba where she runs into the most unexpected member of Weasley clan. As he slowly reveals details about his dissapearance she finds herself interested in the man much more.


"Senorita Hermione! Hola! How are you?" warm female voice of the receptionist greeted her. Hermione got to her hotel the first time when the light was still outside. The reception suddenly felt very friendly and cosy if bit overcrowded but the receptionist, an old Cuban lady wearing a dress so colourful, that Hermione had trouble counting them all, noticed her early arrival instantly and greeted her with a hug.

"Hola, Lazara! I'm great thanks. Work is almost done. How are you? I can see you are quite busy." Hermione smiled brightly.

"Yes, yes, busy. Busy is good. So, you will be leaving us soon?" the old lady asked as she handed an envelope with keys to a young couple who were standing in front of her desk.

"I guess so. Three-day maximum here." She patted Lazara on her shoulder on her sudden sad smile.

"That is sad," she replied but her cheerful smile returned. She moved from her desk to accompany Hermione. "You early today, how about a dinner? We have live music today, Cuban music. Dancing."

Hermione chuckled. Lazara was trying really hard for her to have some good times on her trip here, but she always had to remind her that she is on business, not holiday. However, today she finished early, work was done, the only thing she had to finish some paperwork for Cuban Wizarding government which will easily wait for the next day.

"Dinner sounds lovely but no dancing!" Hermione warned with her finger up.  
"Yes, yes, no dancing. Perfect. I will get you when dinner ready. Now go to your room, take shower and rest." said Lazara while motioning to Hermione to go her room. "There will be also young man joining you," the old lady mentioned like it was no big deal.

"What? Who? Lazara I told you I have no interest in meeting someone." Hermione cursed that one night in the bar when she drunk perhaps too much of Mojitos and loosened up a bit.

"No worry, Hermione! He is very nice young gentleman. And British! You can talk about home!"

Lazara shoved Hermione to the stairs and when she turned to complain again, the old receptionist was gone. She noticed her colourful dress passing around the corner of reception to the staff room. Damn.

Her room was cleaned as usual. On her bed was an origami from the towel, today in the shape of a heart. Hermione shook her head and giggled. Lazara was impossible. Setting up her with some stranger! And British! What were the odds? Well, at least he was British. Or not? Would she prefer some stranger from another country? Maybe Canadian? Or maybe some handsome tanned Latino with who she could dance through the night?

Oh crap, stop it.

She obviously would prefer to spend her night alone like always but she knew arguing with the old woman would lead nowhere. And the small voice inside her head was telling her, there is no harm in one small date in a different country. They would enjoy the dinner, maybe drink some cocktails and then never see each other again. Right?

She scoffed and walked to the bathroom.

It was very small and quite old, the place could hold only very thin shower with few broken tiles, a toilet which sometimes flushed and other times did not, and a tiny sink with towel holder. It wasn't much but it was not like she needed anything more.

Hermione quickly undressed, instantly feeling relieved from close-fitting dress robes. It was so hot in Cuba that she had to make small adjustments to her usual work robes but it was still too clingy. Luckily most of her job was in archives in the basement but when she was returning to her hotel or going for lunch, she felt like dying from the hotness.

Hermione thought that spending the evening in her summer dress, the one she packed just in case, would be nice.

The shower was amazing, cold water was raining on her naked pale body. The only thing she could consider tanned was her face and her arms. Maybe she could finish early tomorrow and make a trip to the beach. That would be nice for a change. She could read a book and get some tan.

When Hermione decided she was clean enough, she turned off the water and tried to grab the towel only to realize she left it on the bed. She cursed, wiped her feet on the small scatter rug in front of the shower and run for the towel in next room.

She could see the shape of a man on the balcony in front of her room but luckily he was turned on the other side, watching something in the view. Hermione thought he looked familiar but he disappeared inside before she could watch him closely.

She quickly dried herself and put her white summer dress. It was so nice to wear something different and light. Hermione poured herself water and decided to copy the man's idea and rest on the balcony.

An hour later she heard a soft knock on her door.

Hermione quickly checked her appearance in the mirror and tried to smoothen her curls. Why was she doing that? It wasn't like she planned to go on date so she couldn't care less about her appearance! But still, Hermione applied at least mascara to highlight her eyes. Her gaze flicked quickly to her arm where she had the infamous scar from a war. Sadly, no healing spell nor glamour charm wasn't able to hide the ugly bloody writing on her hand but she found that muggle make up did some tricks and she was able to successfully hide it.

"Hola, Lazara! Dinner is ready?" she spoke while opening her door.

She could feel the old woman's eyes measuring her. Finally, Lazara nodded approvingly and grabbed her by the wrist.

"Dinner ready, oh yes. The man ready also!"

old woman chittered as she was pulling her in the direction of the dining room.

However, Lazara turned sharply to the left before they made it to the entrance and tugged her to the door which led outside. In the garden, Hermione could see the small gazebo which was lighted with candles and decorated with the flowers. The two palms were standing beside it and made the feeling of the entrance.

When the two women passed the trees Hermione finally saw the small table inside of gazebo and man facing different way from her. He was apparently watching the sunset which glowed in the background. Perfect place for hopeless romantic, not for Hermione but she decided not to comment.

She also realized that the man sitting on the white wooden chair was the same man standing on the balcony who she found a little bit familiar. Hermione tried to focus. He was wearing a white shirt, his hair was long and... Red.

Her heart stopped, from behind he looked just like Bill Weasley but that couldn't be right. He was happily living with Fleur in England but the resemblance was so strong that Hermione started to get nervous.

"Mr. Weasley," Lazara called when they were only a few steps from him and Hermione almost fainted.

How can this be? The man stood, turned around and stopped dead. So did Hermione. It wasn't Bill. It wasn't even Charlie. The man who was standing in front of her was George. She could see it now, George was much thinner than his brother Bill but the hair was the same. However, she didn't see him so long she didn't even know he started to wear his hair this way.

"Hermione?" he almost yelled, his face full of questions.

"Oh!" Lazara squeaked. "You know you two?"

"Yes, Lazara. We do. Could you... Um... Give us a moment?" Hermione found her voice, hoping she would sound confident.

Lazara only nodded and bolted away.

"Well, this is new. And awkward. But a pleasant surprise. I guess?" George choked as soon as the old woman was out earshot.

"Indeed," Hermione stated simply, still staring at him warily.

"Eh," redheaded wizard coughed. "It's good to see you?"

Hermione approached him slowly, still not sure if she didn't fall asleep on the balcony and this was only a dream. But why would she dream about him? Well, dreams are weird. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I could ask the same of you."

"I asked first."

"I'm a private person."

"Ugh, fine, I'm here for work. I was asked to check on something in Cuban archives."

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm here because of the alchemist who currently lives on the island. I read a few of his works and I'm interested in him. Well not him of course, but his work!" George tried to joke but Hermione didn't chuckle.

"I never thought you wanted to be an alchemist " Hermione said.

"Oh... You don't know a lot about me then."

"Apparently." Hermione just stated.

George chuckled. "What?"

"You sounded like Snape." he couldn't stop giggling.

"I did not!" she shrieked unbelievably.

"I'm sorry!" George started to apologize.

"You are of course nothing like Snape. Although, he is now considered a hero, isn't he? So you two have something in common."

Hermione didn't comment and just turned to leave.

"Oh crap. Wait!" he yelled after her. She stopped but didn't turn around. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't joke about Snape anymore."

"It's not about that," Hermione mumbled, aware he couldn't hear her so she repeated louder: "It's not about Snape. Or jokes!"

"Then what?" George asked taken aback. That made Hermione turn back and move towards him.

"Maybe about you pushing everyone away? Your family, your friends, just everyone. I know I'm not either but I visit the Burrow almost every week and nobody knows anything about you. They are hurt, you know? By your disappearance from our lives. Everyone. Me too."

Hermione almost yelled even though it wasn't her intention. She had no right to chide him about this because like she said she was neither friend nor family.

"That's not true," he muttered and Hermione gave him disbelieving look. "I consider you as a friend. And I don't want you to be hurt but..." he paused.

Hermione looked at him. And she looked at him like never before. He was very skinny, not in a healthy way. His hair was long but dry, without their usual shine. There were dark bags under his eyes and he looked very tired. Hermione started to feel ashamed that she snapped like this. Obviously, she had no idea what was going on with him or his reason why is that happening.

"What happened, George?" she asked, in so much softer tone. He motioned to the table and she followed him, sitting in front of him. The candlelight made him suddenly so much older.

"The war happened. I don't know what you want to hear. I'm not myself since the war and nobody can repair me." he started to talk and Hermione kept quiet. "When I... Lost... Fred. I was devastated. We all were I know but nobody would know how it felt for me. It was like I died with him. Losing interest in living, couldn't find anything worth. I kept telling myself I still have a family, it could be worse but it didn't work." he paused. Hermione could see silver tears in his eyes and she felt hers on the cheek. "I know I shouldn't really push them all away but I was unable to spend time with them. Every Time I went to Burrow it broke my heart I thought I don't have, once again, I saw the rooms, the places, things me and Fred made and I just couldn't be there. We started going on family dinners to Harry's as you know. Grimmauld was better in that case. It still was hard, as we spend summer there but it was better than Burrow. The thing which made me push you all were your looks. Not yours particularly," he assured Hermione as it mattered. "but all others. I don't know how you did it but you always knew which one was Fred and which was me. However, not all of them shared your talent on this. The look of mum... It was the hardest."

He stopped talking as Lazara coughed from the behind, distanced long enough to not disturb their conversation, or more like George's monologue, which was broking Hermione's heart once again. She quickly dried her eyes and looked up to the old woman.

"Can we serve?" Lazara asked, looking very nervous. Hermione searched George's gaze for approval and nodded. "Yes, Lazara, please."

In a few seconds, she was standing beside their table, quickly pouring their water and asking if they would like to something else. Hermione ordered white wine because it was sorely needed and George copied her order too. Lazara than asked if they are okay with seafood and while Hermione simply nodded George looked somehow out of place.

"First time?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Yeah. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

George answered with a light chuckle. Lazara only waved with her hand and left the table, muttering quietly under her nose. "What was it?"

"That was 'you got no choice then' kind of leave," Hermione laughed. "But it is good, trust me. I was scared at first too."

"Well, my lady, I shall take your word. However, if I will get poisoned you are put to blame. Maybe I should write my final letter now," George exclaimed playfully. This intrusion definitely changed the atmosphere and Hermione was glad for it. She almost forgot what it felt like to see broken Weasley twin and wished that he wouldn't continue, even if it was inevitable. It was her who yelled at him in the end.

"I guess you would prefer me not to continue?" asked George suddenly, giving her thoughtful look like he was reading her mind. "You practically changed your posture in a second. I can see your cogwheels spinning with thinking. Should I continue or do you want to finish your food and be gone?"

Hermione was taken aback of his thinking. Of course, she wouldn't want the latter, she shouldn't let him go once again and lose him for good.

"Only if you feel like it. To continue of course. I'm so sorry I yelled," she said in a small voice.

"Please, don't be. I probably needed that. I know I shouldn't be running away but it really helped me and now I can go back but first I need to finish something. And maybe making the closure firstly with you will be excellent training." He gave her a reassuring smile.

Before Hermione could say something Lazara made an appearance again, this time full hands with

plates. Without a word, she placed them in front of them and disappeared.

"It looks and smells better than I expected," George broke the silence, gazing weirdly on his plate.

"Guess I ate worse things so here goes nothing." And he stabbed his fork into his appetizer.

Hermione looked at hers, it was a small plate full of different kinds of seafood. She instantly took shrimp and started to peel it off. In the meantime, George drew on magnificent battle with his fork and cuttlefish.

"Stupid seafood. Why would anyone eat something that apparently doesn't want to be eaten!" he exclaimed in frustration and Hermione giggle. He gave her accusing look and she grabbed her fork and took her cuttlefish with experience.

"Here, let me help," she said and extended her fork to his mouth.

George looked at it sceptical but ate it anyway. He held her gaze for a while and then started chewing.

"Well, it's not bad," he said once he swallowed his bite. "But I prefer steak anyway."

"I completely understand." Hermione laughed.

"I'm no fan of cuttlefish either. But here, try this shrimp." She offered hers which she peeled off second ago. "Try it with this cocktail sauce. They are my ."

"If you say so." George grinned and took a bite. She looked at him expectantly. "Yep, much better. I like it a lot!"

Hermione beamed.

When they finished their appetizers, the mood changed once again.

"Anyway, I want to finish it. When I pushed everyone away from my life, it was because of the looks. Suddenly all looked at me with pity and that I could handle. It was annoying but understandable. However, when my mum once stopped dead and looked at like she saw a ghost it started to get weird. I suddenly realized that my whole family was looking so sad at me, almost crying every time. And the reason for it was the same as the reason why I couldn't look into the mirror. They all saw Fred and I couldn't bear to make them cry every time I'm near them. So, I left. I moved to the countryside and soon after found a therapist. He helped me when I was worst, it wasn't much but still something. He was a muggle, you see. I had to alternate a lot of things and that made things bit more difficult." He paused, gathering his thoughts. Hermione tried to hide the tears but she already soaked the tissue.

"And here I am. After one and a half year of solitude, on Cuba, having dinner with one of the prettiest witches I know. Life can be strange, can't be?"

Hermione widened her eyes in surprises on his compliment and a small blush crept on her face. She was suddenly very glad for the candlelight.

"It is, definitely. I'm still not sure if I'm not in my room upstairs and dreaming all of this." She agreed, deciding to ignore the compliment.

They were, once again, disturbed by Lazara who sneaked on them with of food. The main course was simple pasta with fresh pesto, tomatoes and peeled off shrimps. Hermione gave Lazara small smile and thanked her. The old lady returned the smile with relieve and strode back to the Dark.

"So I guess this is a date." George broke the silence suddenly.

"Is it?" Hermione choked, trying to busy herself with rotating the spaghetti on her fork.

"Well, the old lady was very adamant with the praise of you. It was impossible to decline and I was very interest in the meeting the most beautiful girl in the world." He grinned.

"Well, Lazara is overacting a lot but you get used to it. She is a very sweet lady." Hermione said.

Damn you, Lazara.

"Oh, I don't think she overacted," he informed her with a small smile. "How are you, Hermione?"

"Oh, good. Fine. Very good in fact. I work a lot and that makes me happy." she stuttered not very sure what to say.

She was good, wasn't she? Good stable work, no life.

"Oh, really? What are you doing then? If it's not a top-secret position on the ministry of course. If so try to make up some crazy interesting work!"

"It's nothing like that," Hermione chuckled. "I work for the Ministry of Foreign countries. I'm somewhat as a delegate. Ensuring communication with other ministries of magic in the world."

"That sounds boring!" George exclaimed and Hermione laughed at that. It definitely sounded boring. "But at least you get to travel, I guess?"

"This is my first travel from the country so I couldn't say but yes, there are some chances I will look into other countries." She nodded and finished her wine.

George instinctively grabbed the bottle they had on the table and refill her glass.

"Thanks."

"Anything for you, my lady." George gave her a big bright smile as she watched him warily.

"You know, I would never in a million years say that I will end up on a blind date with infamous George Weasley," Hermione mentioned, feeling little dizzy from the wine. "But here we are."

"Here we are." George agreed while holding his glass towards hers. "I'm glad it's you, Hermione. Really. This one of the best night I had in a long time."

"Yeah, me too." Hermione smiled shyly, suddenly aware how attractive George really is.

It was the wine, she reminded herself but she couldn't put her eyes from him. His eyes were so bright, even in the pure candlelight. His cheeks were red from constant smiling and laughing, she had a strange urge to put her hand on it. They finished their main course and dessert followed soon after. While eating their dinner they kept the small talk, sometimes talking about the work or their fellow friends, carefully avoiding topic about families on both sides.

By the time they finished the food, none of them tried to end the evening and leave, so when Lazara showed again they decided to order some cocktails.

"Really, try the Mojito. They have the best!" Hermione giggled when George was debating which cocktail he should try.

"Very well but only if you will get one too!"

"Oh, I probably shouldn't. Last time I drunk them it got me to this blind date."

"You hurt me, Hermione. And here I thought I wasn't so bad company." George laughed lightly, while they ordered the mojitos.

"I just not the company." She rolled her eyes. "It's me talking too much."

"Oh? Spilling some dirty secrets?" George raised his eyebrows. "Lazara! Keep them coming!" he yelled after the old lady. They both laughed. "So tell me, are you really only working and not doing anything else?"

"Well, I might read some book sometimes. And I still have Crookshanks and nothing beats lazy afternoon with an even lazier cat."

"Merlin, your cat is still around?" George chuckled. "But seriously, nothing else?"

"I spend some time with Harry of course and then there is a Burrow..." she paused, knowing well what could bringing up the subject of his family could do. His stare darkened a bit and Hermione bit her lip. George's eyes lingered for a while, unreadable look on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No, it's okay. I asked, didn't I?" George cut her off and changing the subject quickly. "So, no boyfriend either? My, you are a little workaholic, aren't you?"

"I guess," she mumbled. "working keeps me from too much thinking and I like it that way. Besides boyfriend is too much distraction."

"But you were promoted recently. Don't you think you should perhaps slow down and relax a bit?"

"You are not the first one to tell me that but as I said, I like it that way." she snapped bit harshly.

"Okay." George dropped the topic and just on that time, Lazara brought tall glasses filled with transparent liquid, lots of ice and mint.

"Cheers." Offered Hermione with her glass and George mimicked her. The mojito tasted as delicious as usual and by the look of her partner for the night, he enjoyed it as well.

Hermione watched Fred closely, surveying everything about his face. Beside his tiredness and bony face, he still managed to keep his attractiveness. Hermione particularly never really paid attention to the looks, especially not the twins. She always considered them just incorrigible pranksters she had to deal while being prefect and brothers of her school crush. Obviously, things with Ron didn't work out, after the war when she left to the Australia Ron stayed behind to mourn his brother and supports his family, which was admirable and understandable. They both decided they leave everything be and when she will return they'll decide what to do next.

As Hermione expected their so-called love for each other was gone once she returned, not that she had any desire for being in a relationship. The war and Australia made some damage she was still recovering.

It was awkward between them for a while but they soon returned to the terms of friendship and Ron soon after started his dating estrade, switching between partners perhaps too much but she never held it against him.

From that time she concentrated on her work in the ministry and trying to not getting mad. She lived with Harry for a while, not really ready to live on her own but after six months of being constant intruder to him and Ginny, she finally decided to sell the house of her parents and move to the flat in muggle part of London close to the famous Baker Street.

However, right now she was sitting across of the brother of her best friend who she almost dated and realizing she finds that she enjoys George's company perhaps too much. And his look on his face suggested he thinks about the same things.

"Sorry about that. There are just some things I need to keep my minds off and work is doing quite an excellent job," she explained.

"Such as?" he asked, evidently not ready to give up yet.

Hermione shrugged and kept silent for a while. She considered changing the subject but he confided in her, didn't he? He obviously trusted her so maybe she could do the same.

"Australia didn't go as planned. I don't know if you are aware but before Bill and Fleur's wedding I obliviated my parents and sent them to Australia under a different identity." She paused, collecting her thoughts for a moment. To this day she spoke about this only with Harry and briefly with Ron and that was a year ago. George waited patiently, giving her a small smile so she continued: "I was so afraid to lose them. I didn't think of a better plan than this. So when the war ended, I lingered for a funeral but went to Australia in an instant as I was able. It took me exactly three days to find them... Well, their graves more like." Her breath caught and she had to stop again for a moment. She averted gaze to the distance, hoping her tears would fade away. The soft touch on her hand startled her, looking straight to the eyes of her comforter. She didn't move, nor did he.

"I was too late. They died on the 1st of May. Apparently, they were on their way home when there was an accident. Some drunk guy was driving from the cops who were following him and didn't notice the white car standing on the red light. My mum was dead in an instant, dad was stuck between his seat and steering wheel, unable to move. He died later in the hospital. The guy was dead too." She stopped talking.

Tears were falling down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea... I shouldn't have pressed you about it." George murmured while moving his chair closer to her never leaving her hand.

Hermione stared at their hands, his long fingers lightly caressing her knuckles. It felt good. His touch, talking about it with someone else, this whole evening.

"It's okay. I guess we both needed to talk about everything with someone different." Hermione covered his hand with her second one. "Thank you, George. For believing me and then listening to me." He was so close, she could practically feel the heat from his body on her. His face was hidden in darkness but she could feel his eyes on her.

Hermione had a feeling he was bowing closer to her. Was he going to kiss her?

Should she stop him? Did she want to stop him? So many things happened that night and she wasn't able to think clearly. George probably was thinking the same because a moment later he straightened in his chair, gently pushing on of her curls behind her ear, his thumb resting on her cheek for a second and taking another swig of his mojito.

"Hey, I told you my secret," he made quotation marks with his fingers. "and you told me yours. We are fair square."

Hermione laughed heartily, glad he didn't feel the need to pursue any pity on her. She brushed her hair with fingers and looked around. The hotel beside them was dark and quiet, they were here apparently for a few hours. There was only enough of light to enlighten the pavement leading back to the hotel.

"I guess there will be no more mojitos," said George and Hermione chuckled.

"It seems so. But the bar inside should be still open if you thinking into drinking yourself to sleep."

"Only if you would join me," he suggested.

"I shouldn't. I have work in the morning."

"Oh, right your important administrative work. When are you leaving anyway?"

"Well, the job is almost done so I believe by tomorrow I'll be finished. I'm thinking the day after. What're your plans?" she asked, suddenly remembering his reason for being here.

"I tell you what, you let me buy you another drink inside the bar and I tell all about my secret mission here," George said while standing up and offering his hand to help her.

Hermione took it without hesitation. "You've got yourself deal."

When they arrived at the bar it was mostly deserted, only the barman polishing one of the glasses and a man around his thirties in the corner sipping a beer while reading a book. They took a seat in the second corner which provided them with some privacy, Hermione showing her empty glasses of mojito towards the bar.

Once they were alone with new drinks, George started to talk:

"As I said, I'm here because of an alchemist. I read some of his works while he was researching removing the traces of dark curses." Hermione looked confused for a bit but she understood quickly as George put his hair behind his ear. Or more like a stub of it. "He has some theories about the growing of missing limbs thanks to some kind of root which is accessible only here on Cuba."

"That's amazing. Do you have some of his works here? Could you show me?" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. Her mind drifted to her hideous scar on her arm. She used to be very pragmatic about the whole alchemy but if it would heal her arm, she would definitely reconsider her whole opinion. "Maybe I could check on that alchemist in the archives. Do you have his name?"

"You can try," said George looking surprised. "His name is Franklin Puentes. He should live somewhere on the south near the village Mabujina I believe."

"Hm, I never heard of him but to be true I didn't really read through alchemy files. I will check tomorrow. When you'll be leaving?"

"Well, at first I wanted to leave tomorrow but maybe I could stay bit longer," he said with a small smile. Something in his eyes made Hermione shiver.

"Then dinner tomorrow again?" Hermione suggested.

"It's a date!"

Hermione thought about correcting him but stopped herself, she didn't need to ruin their time together. Besides, she enjoyed it and George looked happiest since Fred's death.

"I will bring you his works later this night to your room."

They held a conversation for an hour longer, drinking a few more mojitos before Hermione decided it was rather late and the rum in the cocktails made them quite drunk. When she was standing, she had to grab George's hand even though he wasn't holding much better.

"These mojitos are quite the thing, dear Hermione. I blame you for putting me in this state," George muttered with a laugh.

"Oh, cut the bullshit, the only one to blame is you. You insisted on ordering more." Hermione giggled loudly while trying to climb up the stairs which seemed like a difficult task right now.

"Maybe I am but they were your idea." George pointed finger on her and she grabbed him so she could stabilize. They were balancing each other on thin stairs, giggling lightly.

"Maybe I hoped I would forget about this," he whispered as she was leaning on his arms, looking closely to her eyes. The mood suddenly changed and amused looks faded from their faces. Time stopped.

"George?" she tried not really knowing what to do. Hermione never saw this look on his face, it was a mix of lust, sadness and questions.

"Say, Hermione," he began. "have you ever loved Ron?"

Hermione paused. What an odd question. Did she love Ron? Well, yes, of course she loved him. They were through so much; they stood beside Harry and fight the battle together. Yes, she loved him. As a best friend. Almost the same as Harry only with him it was more like siblings' love.

With Ron it was different, that's why she thought it was romantically but, in the end, both recognized soon enough it was never meant to happen. "Tell me, did you love him?" George spoke again, his eyes searching hers. "No. We would never work as a couple," she said.

"Good."

"Good?"

But instead of answer he pulled her closer and kissed her. At first, she was startled, freezing in place not sure what to do but after a few seconds, she leaned in and returned his kiss. George was slow, very gentle and careful, she could feel his uncertainty but once she gave in his hand started to roam her back. The kiss deepened, suddenly it was more passionate and Hermione couldn't get enough. Her hands were entangled in his hair and he worked his way under her dress when hard steps bellow the interrupted them and they jumped from each other.

They quickly climbed the stairs which now was the easiest task before them. Hermione charged towards her room, George slightly behind her. They could see the figure of the man who was sitting downstairs in the bar as he was unlocking his room and vanishing from the corridor. They were alone once again.

"I..." Hermione began but George quickly cut her.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have taken advantage of you!" He was red in his face, Hermione was sure that her face would have the same shade. Soon the lights went dark as they didn't dare to move.

"Let's just pretend this didn't happen," she suggested, eyes glued to her feet.

"Right. Okay." George coughed.

"Goodnight then," he said still not moving. Hermione looked up and her breath caught, he was standing there, half of his face hidden in the dark the other half lighten up by the moon, she could tell he was sorry but not for kissing her. And Hermione knew she felt the same but didn't dare to do anything.

"Goodnight," she whispered and turned to her doors. Once she unlocked the door, she could hear his steps echoing and fading away. Hermione entered her room and shut the door, slowly sliding against them.

What's gotten into them? This shouldn't happen. Two years ago she was crying over his brother and now she was kissing George in a dark corridor on the stairs. Hermione tried to feel bad but failed instantly. Was it really so bad? She and Ron dated only for months and nothing except few kisses exchanged between them but still, kissing his brother wasn't really appropriate, was it?

It was the mojito, she told herself not really believing it. Right now, she was quite sober and she desperately wanted to go to him except she didn't know which room was his. It was just then when there was soft knock, she instantly stood and opened almost stumbling upon the door.

George was standing in the dark corridor, not really able to see his face.

"I brought you the documents, you wanted,"

he said slowly. She could feel the tension between them.

"Oh, okay," she mumbled not really moving to get the papers. He was staring at her, she could feel his eyes. When he moved towards her the lights turned on, revealing him, eyes now only full of lust, not holding anything. Hermione lurched towards him, almost jumping on him and kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

"I... Must have forgot them," George breathed between the kisses. Hermione groaned, grabbing his collar and pulling him inside out from prying eyes and unwelcome guests. "I'm sorry," he tried to say again against her lips.

"Well, I'm not," she stated, tugging him more inside to her room when they reached the bed. They fell over to the soft sheets which interrupted their kissed and gave them time to inhale. Hermione searched his eyes, glad to still see the same passion, pushing his hair from his forehead.

"I lied," he whispered, pulling her closer which was almost impossible as she was stuck under him. "I'm not sorry either."

Upon his words Hermione kissed him, it wasn't like kisses before, this one is more tender and she was sure that she melting against him. George pulled away after a while, giving them time to gather their thoughts and breaths, his hands still resting on Hermione's waist.

Hermione inhaled the current situation. How did they end up here? They were laying on the bed in her room in dark, gently embracing each other and it felt... Natural. He smelled like a sea and alcohol but tasted like vanilla ice cream they had for a dessert. She couldn't quite believe how this evening turned out. What are the odds of her running into George Weasley, the lost son and brother of Weasley pack, on an island in the Caribbean Sea? In the same hotel? Well, she could understand the hotel, George must have asked for a permit to use the portkey which would take him to Cuba and this hotel was one of the recommended to stay for wizards and witches. It was still muggle hotel but it provided much-needed solitude.

Wizarding world in Cuba was very small, the ministry was only tiny building in the centre of Havana, hiding under the cathedral. The Wizarding community weren't bigger than a hundred of people and half of them didn't live in the country. The nearest school was in the States so many families with little children had to move out as the transportation was very complicated from here. The presence of Wizarding shops or institutions were practically on zero.

However, the meeting of George right here was a huge coincidence. Hermione gazed up to his face quickly turning to a delicate shade of red as he was watching her closely. His face was hidden but eyes were piercing right through her.

"Questioning all of this already?" he spoke in a quiet voice.

"Aren't you?" she asked softly and he nodded. His hand slowly moved to her cheek and his thumb carefully traced her cheekbone.

"Everything is happening so quickly. After Cuba, I wanted to go back. Go to the Burrow and make my amends. And continue in mine and Fred's dream. However, a certain witch entwined my journey and made things go a bit faster." He gave her a knowing look and Hermione stayed silent.

"Suddenly it doesn't feel so impossible and..." he paused for a second looking at her curiously. "Merlin, you are so beautiful, Hermione," he whispered and Hermione leaned in and kissed him.

She took his head between her palms and kissed him like no one else. Suddenly all of the questions, hesitations or doubts disappearing in the darkness. Hermione was never a girl who cared much for her looks but this compliment was something she always secretly wanted to hear. And the look on George's face looked so genuine she didn't even doubt it.

"Wow," George whispered, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I will have to tell you more often, how beautiful you are." Hermione chuckled, entwining her fingers with his. "I should probably go, right?"

"No, you don't have to," she said. "Just don't expect... Ehm, you know."

"Right. I won't expect you taking your clothes off right now and starting night full of orgy-" he stopped noticing her incredulous look and put his hands above head. "I'm just joking, I know and don't worry." He gave her light kiss on the cheek and she playfully pushed him.

They talked for a while never leaving each other's embrace until they both fell asleep. It was the first time Hermione didn't wake up in screams from a nightmare. It was also the first time George didn't dream about his deceased brother but about the certain witch who filled his arms.

* * *

A/N: Hi everyone!

Thank you for reading this little one-shot which was written for Hermione's Nook Rare Pair Fest! Huge thanks to ArielSakura for beta-ing this story for me!  
This one-shot is written as part of Hermione's Nook Rare Pair Fest, the pairing is George/Hermione and the plot blind date!  
I was hugely inspired to this when I was on holiday on Cuba. The story was even completed there!


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